Write Me a List
by wildestoftales
Summary: Summary: At the age of thirty, with two boys at 6 and 4 years old, and a marriage colder than the morgues freezer room, Brooke Davis Scott knew she was living a lie. Full summary inside BL
1. Prologue

_Authors note: So, this is my new brucas fic! It's a request from Amanda, so the idea is not mine! A huge thanks to Elliemo, iamloved16 and jojogirl for reading and betaing this! You girls rock:) _

_The fic is set to the song "Write me a list" by Rodney Atkins. The lyrics will appear in this story from the next chapter! _

_Please leave reviews to tell me if you like this or not! _

_Disowner: I do not own anything related to one tree hill! _

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**Write Me a List**

_Summary: At the age of thirty, with two boys at 6 and 4 years old, and a marriage colder than the morgues freezer room, Brooke Davis Scott knew she was living a lie. 'You're ready for this?' He asked, his voice was challenging, daring her to say no. 'Yes,' she cleared her throat, 'this is what I want!' _

Prologue

Brooke Davis Scott flicked her wrist to check her watch. 2:15 pm. She still had another 15 minutes before the meeting. She walked with a steady rhythm, her high heels echoing through the corridors. There once had been a time when she had loved that sound; it meant that everyone's eyes would lie on her, and she loved the attention that was given to her when she wore those kinds of shoes.

Now it was different. She didn't need for anyone to know now that she had arrived. She didn't want anyone to know that she was a failure, that her life was a failure. That she wasn't happy.

She had had the perfect life, or so it seemed. She had married her high school sweetheart, Lucas Scott, in their 3rd year of college. He had gone to the University of North Carolina to study literature. She had wanted to go to California to study fashion design, but since grades counted as much as talent, she didn't get in. Therefore, she had gone with Lucas to UNC, and been happy to at least be with him. But somehow, she still had the thought of not being good enough in the back of her head. She was only second best when it came to both school and Lucas. She was sure of it. He had gotten his dream job after college, and she had gotten an office job she really didn't like or was particularly good at.

She wanted to believe that she was independent, believe that being with Lucas wouldn't change her, that it wouldn't change him.

She had fooled herself once again. She had found herself to be increasingly dependent on him as the time went by, without noticing it herself.

_Always the last to know. _

So she had agreed to marry him. It was the right thing to do. She had been excited of course, but there was still this little voice inside her head telling her not to marry him. Not just yet.

She had ignored the voice, and somewhere down the line, it had been silenced to just a whisper. It wasn't until the last few years it had spoken up again, and now it spoke louder and clearer than ever.

But it wasn't just her life. She had someone else to consider, too, and that was why she had found herself once again ignoring the voice. Ignoring it for two more years.

Then, not too long after their 3rd anniversary she had stumbled across this ad in 'Cosmopolitan'. 'Opportunity of a lifetime' had stood there in big, promising letters. It as a competition and Brooke had entered.

She had won, and the prize was to move to New York to work alongside some of America's most talented designers.

She had been ecstatic, while Lucas had been rather cold about it.

"That's great, dear, " was all he had said, and continued to watch the basketball game on TV.

She had been hurt by his lack of support and enthusiasm. She had expected more of him.

But her luck did not seem to last. She had been in the process of changing the brand of her pill. The old one was giving her headaches. She had only been off of birth control one day, two at tops. But since they were still a cheesy couple that everyone loudly hated, but silently adored, she got pregnant.

When she had told him the news, he had been so happy.

She knew it was because now she wouldn't be able to leave. Now she would have to be there, for the rest of her life, with him. The thought alone made her run to the bathroom to hug the toilet.

He had laughed it off as early morning sickness, but she knew it was because of him.

She began to hold a grudge towards him. After all, he was partially the reason for why she was stuck in this suck fest. For the second time in a life, _her lifetime_, the thing she wanted most in the world was slipping away.

Any animosity towards the baby was gone the first time she laid eyes on him.

Little Bryan. She knew she had made the right decision about having him. She spent all of her time with him, and less and less time with Lucas. She kept on telling herself that he deserved it, he deserved her neglecting him.

He began to work late, and she began to have suspicions about him cheating on her again. He was constantly coming home having the infamous lipstick mark on his collar, red wine colored teeth and a perfume scent that definitely was not hers. She never brought it up though, and that was when she realized that everything had changed. She had changed. Old Brooke would never have put up with this; the old Brooke would never have kept silent.

But deep down she knew why she did it. She could tell he was in love with this other woman, but she didn't want him to get out. If she wasn't allowed to, then why should he? She wanted him to stay miserable in this marriage like she had was. After all, he had tied her down with a leash. It was only fair that she returned the favor.

He had come home from work one day and had just told her everything. He said he was feeling guilty for everything, and that he wanted for them to be a family again. He had cried, while she had kept still. She could tell he was taken aback by her lack of surprise and her simple 'I know' response. He had promised that he would never do it again, and she could not help but wonder if he only did this because his girlfriend had broken things off. She wanted to know who it was, but his answer was as simple as hers, 'Not Peyton'. Somehow, she found that a bit comforting.

She had agreed, and once again suppressed the feeling in her gut. He had showered her with compliments and gifts, and she had put on her brightest of the fake smiles to greet him every time he came home. Everything seemed perfect again, but it was far from it. Everything became a routine; the way he emotionlessly told her he loved her each morning, the way she never said it back, the way she silently cried herself to sleep every night, and the way he did the same next to her. There were days where she felt loved, when he did little things like he used to before. When he called her by her favorite nickname, Pretty girl. Those days were good, and everything felt normal. But there were other days that were horrible; where all they said to one another was 'hello' and 'goodbye'. Those days had become too many to count; still, she lived for the good days.

Even their sex had become a routine. They tried to make time for it once a week, just so they wouldn't feel like failures anymore than they already did. He came home with flowers, or sometimes more expensive gifts, but never jewelry. She felt like she owed him something, and caved almost every time. After a while he even stopped making an effort, and simply asked, sometimes begged for it. _Way to make a girl feel loved_. That had been all she ever wanted; to feel loved, to feel desired. What she did not want was to feel like a piece of meat, with her legs spread whilst he was down there doing his thing.

And if things weren't bad enough, she became pregnant again. She was scared that she would have to relive the last two years, that he would once again find comfort in another woman. But surprisingly he didn't.

Now, at the age of thirty, with two boys, 6 and 4 years old, and a marriage colder than the morgues freezer room, she knew she was living a lie.

Brooke slowed down as she neared the desk that housed the secretary. She straightened her purple top and her plain black pants that were both bought in one of those places that people with high standards would not even look through the window.

There had been a time when it had been unthinkable for her to even buy something so much as a scrunchy in there, but she had learned to settle for less over the years. Right now she was worried if she could manage to make the outfit look like as if it had been hundreds of dollars more expensive than it really was.

She tapped her fingers on the counter in a nervous motion, and cleared her throat loudly, making the secretary look up from her notes.

"May I help you?" She asked blankly. Brooke knew that voice well, she used it too.

"Um, could you tell Mr. Davidson that Brooke Scott is here to see him, please?" The secretary looked a little annoyed, but did as she was told. Brooke looked around the room while she waited. She took in the dull grey walls, and the dull brownish curtains to go with it. She would never get used to being here. The more she looked around the room, the more confident she became that she would have killed herself if she ever had to work here. At least she had added a little color to her office.

"He's ready to see you now. You know where his office is, right?"

"Yes, I do." Brooke replied. She turned on her heels, and they once again filled the hollow corridors with noise.

She knocked on his door most carefully; her shy presence she had developed during the years was taking the best of her. She heard a muffled 'come in', and opened the door just a little so she could squeeze herself through. She had been there enough to know at just what point the door would make a noise. He didn't say anything until she was settled in the leather chair in front of his desk; her hands tightly folded in her lap.

"You're ready for this?" He asked. She thought his voice was a little challenging, daring her to say no. She therefore nodded her head with determination, making her long dark curls bounce around her shoulders. One tendril landed on her nose, and she quickly wiped it away with her perfectly manicured finger. Well, as perfect as it could be when it was home-done.

"And you're sure this is what you want?" His voice had taken on a more caring tone, a tone Brooke liked better on him.

"Yes," she cleared her throat, "this is what I want."

"Okay. Everything has been taken care of; all you need to do now is sign the divorce papers."

She slowly grabbed the pen that was offered to her, and with shaking hands, she signed the papers perfectly, even making little hearts on top of her i's.

The easy part was done. The hard part had yet to come.


	2. What We Both Deserve

_**Authors note:**Here it is, the first chapter! Thanks to Elliemo and jojogirl for beta'ing this! You girls really work your magic!_

_So, I guess that was it.. Other than I do not own anything with one tree hill! If I did... then the triangle would be GONE!_

_On with the story..._

**Chapter 1: What we both deserve**

_He said; " Just think it over, and write me a list, _

_so we can figure out what we both deserve" _

He found himself sitting in front of his perfect house; white with a picket fence. Random toys were scattered across the lawn, making the beautiful house look even more perfect, showing that the happy couple also had children, not only one, but two.

'_Two more souls to screw up_.' Lucas thought as he watched his house like he did every night.

It seemed just perfect on the outside, the red door, a hammock to sit in on cold winter nights, when they would just cuddle with each other. A swing and a dollhouse Brooke had insisted on buying for her daughter, if she ever had one.

Again, on the outside everything was perfect. But if the insides of the four walls could whisper, they would tell a story of a couple screwed up from their very beginning, a couple only getting worse over the years. They would tell a story of love and laughter, and how real life turns it into screaming and pettiness and hatred. They would tell a story of a cold marriage, and an even colder husband, a husband who was afraid to let himself feel anything for his wife anymore.

They would tell secrets, no doubt about that.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. Once again, he was dreading to go inside. Ever since the incident as he liked to call it, she was resenting him. Every day when he came home, he was greeted with her resentment. He dreaded the days where he had to work overtime, because it would mean he would be met with the 'look'. She didn't say anything; she just gazed at him as if to tell him that she knew what he really had been doing, when he in fact hadn't done anything at all. Her eyes told him more than a thousand words, they were the windows to her soul. He could see that her soul needed repairing, but he wasn't sure if he could be the one to put the life back in it, or the spark back in her eyes.

Because her eyes had lost their sparkle. Now, they were just glistening with unshed tears, but not even then did he know how to fix it. How to restore her spirits, that certain light within her soul that lit that special spark in him as well. He had forgotten how to light the flame, and how to whisper soothing nothings into her ear. All he was capable of in the end was to make her shed these tears every night. The thought alone made him want to rip out his own heart and hand it to her. Made him want to scream at her, yell at her that she could have his heart, rip it out like he had ripped out hers. That she could tread on it; do whatever she wanted with it. Hurt him, just like he had hurt her.

The sound of her muffled sobs next to him brought tears to his own eyes every night. But unlike her, he was never able to shed them. They remained in his eyes, occasionally glistening when the faint streetlights tiptoed their way into their room. His dry pillow every morning was the evidence of his hollow form. He didn't want Brooke to feel sorry for him, so he never said anything. He didn't want it to look like he was the victim, because he really wasn't.

He was just lost.

He released his hold on the steering wheel, and glanced at the window. He could see some movement inside, and knew he had to go in before Brooke would start worrying about where he was. As he stepped out of the car, he let out a sigh. The 'putting one foot before the other' motion wasn't as easy as he once had remembered it. It was hard knowing that once he stepped inside those four walls, he would have to pretend again. Not pretend to love her, because he did. Just pretend that everything was okay, when it really wasn't, when it hurt like hell.

She deserved better.

He was met by the smell of food as he walked through the house. He searched the rooms for his two boys, Bryan and Kevin, but with no sign of them anywhere else, he found his way into the kitchen. Brooke was putting the last touches to the decorated table. She looked stunning with her hair gathered in a bun at the back of her neck, a simple red top and a pair of dark blue jeans. He walked up to her, and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. He felt her clenching her jaw and tipping her head away from him slightly, so that his lips only touched her skin briefly. Then she hastily went to search the cupboards for two glasses.

"Where are the kids?" Lucas glanced around the room and the hallway that lead to the kitchen.

"They're at Karen's. Where have you been?" She asked, her eyes narrowing as she glanced over her shoulder to watch his response. Lucas looked at the watch that stood on the kitchen island. He was only 15 minutes late.

"I just got held up at work. You know how it is." He let out a sigh as he sat down on the chair by the table Brooke had set up for the two of them.

"Yeah, I know." she said knowingly, before returning to search through the cupboards. Lucas decided to drop the subject. There was nothing he could say or do to change her mind.

"This looks great. Is there a special occasion?" He looked from the neatly lined up candle sticks to the newly bought table cloths. The food was already on both their plates, and the wine was in the cooler in the middle of the table.

"No, I...I just need to talk to you, that's all." She said, sitting down on the opposite side of him. He frowned slightly, and grabbed the glass that she held out for him to take.

"I see..." He said, while looking down at his plate. There was a small piece of steak, with baby corn, baby carrots and small pieces of onion placed around on the plate, looking like the perfect meal. He frowned again, as he watched his plate. Baby corn, baby carrots... This looked awfully familiar.

"Are you pregnant?" He asked, startling her with his question. Her eyes grew wide, while his never left the table.

"Excuse me?" She choked out, placing the bottle back in the cooler after pouring wine to both of them.

"I said, are you pregnant?" His voice was cold; his eyes shot up and pierced through her. Her eyes welled up with tears. She breathed steadily in and out, relaxing herself to get calm enough to speak.

"What makes you think that?" She asked, her voice matched his coldness, her eyes turning black.

"Baby corn, baby carrots, you made me watch that episode of Full House several times, Brooke." he said, his voice softened a little at the thought of the time in their past where everything was okay.

"Do you really think I would use that way to tell you? Do you think our life has turned into some 90's sitcom?" Her voice got louder as Lucas just sat there, watching her.

"No, I'm not pregnant! But it's nice to see your reaction if I had been." she dropped her head between her arms, her small hands covering her tired eyes.

"No, it's just... I don't think this is the right time for us to have a baby. It wouldn't be right for the baby." He said, reaching out to stroke her hair. She pulled her head back and away from his embrace. Her mascara had been smudged under her eyes. Lucas had never seen her so hurt, broken and fragile before.

"You're right," she said, locking her eyes with his. He became scared of the tone in her voice, and her eyes that once held so much emotion became completely dark and empty of feeling.

"It wouldn't be right. Thank you for dinner, it was lovely. We should do this again sometime." She continued, grabbing his and her plate and tossed it in the sink. Lucas cringed at the sound of the broken plates, and the sight of food scattered across the counter. Brooke turned around and grabbed their wine glasses they had gotten at their wedding. Lucas thought for one second that she was going to throw the wine in his face, but she instead grabbed them calmly, almost scaring him with the grace with which she held on to those glasses. Those were one of her favourite possessions, given to her by Peyton as reconciliation present. He dropped his head, and sighed in relief when she didn't throw it in his face, but instead headed for the counter and threw the glasses in there as well. He winced at the sound of another broken glass cutting through his ears.

"Brooke..." He started, but immediately quieted when her eyes told him to leave it. She brushed past him, and grabbed the wine, before she went down the hallway to their bedroom, and shut the door with all the strength she had left. His head found their way to his hands, as his eyes watered at the thought of what he had just done. He had managed to screw it up once again, and he had a feeling that it would be the last time he would screw it up for her.

Brooke slid down in front of the bed, her hands gripped tightly around the bottle. She heard Lucas' feet shuffle across the floor. She heard him stopping outside her door for a second, and just imagined his broody face standing hesitantly on the other side. It was seconds before she told him to either get the hell out, or come in and say what he wanted to say, but before she could say anything, the sound of keys being picked up filled the silence, followed by the echoing of the front door being slammed shut.

"Jackass." she muttered, before bringing the bottle to her lips, hoping that the alcohol would wash away her sorrows, and make her feel numb for just one night. She usually didn't drink much. She had left her 'Party Brooke' persona behind her when she had graduated from college.

But she just couldn't help herself tonight. Everything had gone wrong, horribly wrong. She wanted to make him hurt with her words, not the other way around. For one night, she wanted to be in control, and maybe hear the heart of someone else shatter, instead of her own. But he couldn't even give her that.

"Son of a..." the sentence drowned, as she took another swig of the bottle.

--

Lucas gently turned the doorknob before he stepped into the dark room. He blinked a few times to get used to the darkness. It was then that he saw the trace of a small figure in front of the bed. He walked towards it and slid down next to her.

"Brooke?" He whispered, before gently nudging her shoulder. Her eyes were shut; her breasts were rising with her steady breathing. He noticed the empty bottle of wine and pushed it aside before he nudged her shoulder again.

"Brooke." he said louder this time. Her eyes fluttered open. He noticed the softness that lay in her eyes when they fell on him and then watched them empty themselves as she slowly started to remember again what had happened that night.

"You're back." she said simply, still meeting his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm back. I'm sorry, but-"

"Sorry isn't going to cut it this time, Lucas." She said tiredly. He closed his eyes, and nodded. How could he respond to that? He knew she was right.

Lucas started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He could feel Brooke's eyes piercing through him, and it made him nervous. Not only because she used to be good at reading his thoughts, but mostly because she hadn't watched him in that way in a long time.

"Where do you go?" She asked hesitantly. She didn't want to break the silence at first, but she just needed to know.

"What do you mean?" He asked softly. All traces of the previous coldness were gone.

"When you leave...where do you go?"

Lucas looked sheepishly away, before looking back into her eyes. They had softened again, and were waiting for his answer.

"Nowhere. I just sit in my car and watch our house. In some weird way, that seems to calm me. Sometimes it upsets me more than it calms me, and that freaks me out even more, you know?" He shook his head not quite able to believe that he was actually sharing something with her again. This was something he hadn't done in a long time. He watched her reaction, but she didn't move or raise an eyebrow in the famous 'Brooke Davis' way. She just sat there, completely still, watching him.

"So you're really not with her anymore?" She asked, her voice carried a small hope.

"No...no, I'm not." he said, while looking away. Brooke sighed, and tore her eyes away from him. With the silence surrounding them the only thing audible was their breaths echoing through the room.

"Why wasn't I enough for you?" She whispered. Her vision was blurry; her hands were resting in her lap.

"You are enough for me, Brooke," he answered, resting his hand on her thigh, nudging it gently. She tensed under his touch.

"It's just that...she was there. And I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did, and you have to believe me, if I could take it back, I would! But it turned into something so much more...it was different. She loved me," his voice lowered as he spoke the last part. Brooke's eyes shot up, the tears she held back were threatening to spill.

"_I_ love you." She said louder than she intended to. Lucas kept his gaze in his lap, now tracing the thread in his pants.

"I know. But...but she showed me," "he said, staring at her, forcing her to look straight into his eyes. " Brooke could see the sincerity glowing from them, and something that she hadn't seen in him before. Regret? Sadness? Loneliness?

Suddenly, Brooke felt like she couldn't breathe. That one little sentence he had uttered stirred something inside her, and made her realise that she wasn't the only one who had hurt in this marriage. She could see it now, clearly, as to why he had done what he did. She had held a grudge towards him; she had forgotten to show him just how much he meant to her, and just how much she needed his love and approval. She, who once had been good in guiding people to her emotions, had forgotten to once again let him in.

It was too late now though. She had screwed this, and him, up.

"I want a divorce, Lucas," she whispered. The words were too delicate to be spoken loudly, and she knew once she had uttered them, she could never take them back. Lucas nodded. He had seen it coming. Brooke let her head fall down on his shoulder, before closing her eyes as she felt his warmth spread through her. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this close to him. One tear, then two, slipped down her cheeks, landing on her shivering lips.

"We both deserve more than this." Lucas nodded again, while gently resting his head on top of hers. There wasn't anything to do, or say. It was over.

They were both done fighting.

---

_What's the verdict? Reviews are, as always, appreciated!_


	3. Dividing His And Hers

_**Author's note: **Yes, I know, I suck. It's been a looong time since the last update, but I am finally here with the new chapter! It was a hard chapter to write, and I wanted it to be somewhat good before I posted it. lol. I hope you like it, and I hope you remember this story. lol. _

_Also, a huge thanks to Ellie and Christina for beta'ing this! I heart you girls! Thanks to Mara for the beautiful banner! _

_**Disclaimer; I don't own anything with one tree hill. That's all Mark's "brilliant" idea **_

**Chapter 2: Dividing His And Hers **

_She hardly could believe it; their love had come to this._

_Dividing and deciding his and hers. _

"_Mommy, don't you love Daddy anymore?" _

The sound of her youngest son's voice kept ringing in her ear, the childish tone evident, but at the same time it was drifting away with each word spoken. She knew that this transition would make her children grow up fast. She knew that they would now want to act like the men she had told them to be in the past.

Brooke shivered, and wrapped the thin jacket tighter around her, as she struggled to move forward through the wind with her heavy bag on her shoulder.

_Her eyes filled with tears, as she watched Kevin's tearstained cheeks. _

"_I still love your Dad, Kevin." She saw Lucas flinch slightly at her words. Never in a million years would she have thought that the words I love you could hurt more than they did good. "But sometimes love isn't enough. We need to spend some time apart to figure things out. You know how you need to be away from Bryan sometimes, right?" She scooped him up in her lap, and brushed away a few tears with her thumb. Kevin scrunched his nose. _

"_Yes, he does get on my nerves sometimes." Brooke let out a small chuckle. "Does Dad get on your nerves?" _

"_Sometimes," Brooke said with a smile, as she looked over at Lucas. Her smile faded as she saw his tight lips, and his eyes fixated on the carpet. "But that's not why we're doing this." _

"_Why _you're _doing this," Lucas muttered from his position in his chair. Brooke's head snapped to him, her eyes narrowing as she understood what he was doing. He wanted her to be the bad guy, while he was the saint. The thought made her want to laugh, but she managed to restrain herself. _

"_What's that, Lucas?" Her voice was dripping with resentment. Kevin looked confused between his parents, and Brooke quickly covered up her hard appearance. She didn't want her children to choose sides; it wasn't fair to either of the parties. _

"_I just said... I'm sorry that it has to be this way, but it's for the best, and I promise you that everything will be okay." Brooke sighed in relief. She was glad he wasn't starting anything in front of Kevin and Bryan. They didn't deserve to see them fighting, not again. _

"_Your dad and I have talked it over, and he will move out tomorrow." Another flinch ran over Lucas' features at the words moving out. It was true, they had talked it over, but it hurt to actually hear her say it. "But he's not going too far. He will stay with Grandma Karen for this week, and then he will find an apartment so he can stay close to you guys." Brooke nudged Kevin's and Bryan's shoulder. _

"_Isn't that right, Lucas?" Brooke continued softly, her hand lingering on Bryan's shoulder. When Lucas didn't answer, she asked again. This time more harshly than the first, and she felt Bryan squirm under her grasp as her hand had tightened on his shoulder. _

"_Yes, that is correct," Lucas, answered mockingly. He didn't want to act that way, but still, he couldn't help it. Maybe he was naive to think that they would have worked through it somehow, that their love would not alter, as she had so nicely put it all those years ago. _

_Brooke watched as Lucas shifted uncomfortably in the chair. His hands were in desperate need to find something to hold, and his eyes were shifting through the room. As she sensed the coldness in his voice every time he responded to something she said, she couldn't help but think that this was it, it was really the end. How could anything be okay after this?_

_Lucas looked over at Bryan, who hadn't said anything since they first told them the news. He didn't cry, he didn't move at all. _

"_How are you there, Bry?" Lucas said softly, and reached over to nudge the six year old's knee. He shifted at his Daddy's touch, and scooted closer to his Mom. Brooke saw the hurt flash through Lucas' eyes, and as their eyes met, she saw the resentment they held towards her. _

"_Answer your father, Bryan," Brooke said, in hope of trying to make something right. _

"_No," he answered, his eyes fixed on the new sneakers Lucas had bought him the day before. _

"_No?" Brooke replied, a little shocked of the tone Bryan used towards his parents. She had taught him to be better than this. _

"_Why should I? He's leaving, and he's not coming back. Nothing's ever going to be the same again. I hate you both!" Bryan screamed through his angry tears that had finally started to fall, before he stomped out of the room. Brooke's eyes filled with tears once again, and she saw through the blur that Lucas was breathing heavily to keep his from falling too. She opened her mouth to say something to him, just anything would do. But she couldn't, nothing would come out. There wasn't anything to say that would make the hurt that the foursome was feeling right. _

_She looked pleadingly at Lucas, willing him to understand. He looked at her harshly, before he picked up his keys and walked out. _

_Brooke was left, hanging on to her sobbing son in her lap. _

Brooke wiped away the tears that had fallen as she thought about the day before. It seemed like a lifetime ago she had hurt the two most precious little people in her life, but she couldn't take it back either. Today was the day he was moving out, and she couldn't be there to watch him empty their house.

She walked up the driveway, and tried to pull her jacket even closer around her. It was too big, and no matter how much she tried, it just wouldn't hug her thin form in the way that it should.

She walked carefully up the steps, making sure that she wouldn't slip on the remnants of the rain that had fallen earlier that morning. Her heels were clicking against the pavement, and she damned herself for being there so early. But she had needed to get out, to get away from the big division that was taking place.

Her fingers were shaking as she desperately blew at them to try to get some warmth in them. It was useless. She reached her index finger up to the doorbell, and lightly pushed it. She quickly walked a few steps back, before she waited to see if she was home.

She had to be. She had said that she usually was at this time.

She saw lights turning on in various places, making signs of where she was moving through the house. Brooke silently cursed under her breath; of course it was too early to visit someone.

The door creaked as it opened, and a tall girl with messy blonde curly hair stepped out. She was wearing a simple tank top, and jeans. Her clothes and arms were covered with paint stains of various colors.

Peyton looked curiously over at Brooke, who hadn't said anything yet. She watched the sadness that engrossed her features, and her simple standing with her arms crossed. Something was wrong; Brooke had never been simple. As Peyton saw the bag that laid next Brooke's feet, she understood why only the shadow of the former Brooke was standing at her doorstep at 6 am.

"It's really over, Peyton," Brooke said. She looked down on the ground, and bit her lip as she tightened the grip around herself. "He's moving out."

Peyton watched as the tears started rolling down her cheeks. She walked gently over to Brooke, and wiped away at them, before she enveloped her in a hug. She felt her whole body grow limp, as her silent tears were replaced with quiet sobbing.

"Shhh, it's going to be okay," Peyton cooed, but deep down she knew that her words were empty. None of this was okay, nor would it ever be.

She wasn't so sure that Brooke could just bounce back this time.

--

Lucas walked into their house next day, only to find that it was empty. He tiptoed through the house, opening doors and checking in closets to see if anything had happened to his children, and Brooke. He couldn't bare it if it had. Everything was left exactly as it had been when he had walked out the day before, and he felt a lump grow in his chest. It tightened, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

What if while he was out, worrying about himself and his issues, he had failed to support the family that he loved?

He knew the answer to that; he had failed at his task a long time ago. He had always loved his kids, and he had really thought that he had been a great father. But as he walked through the house, the sound of his voice echoing through the room as the only response, he realised that he had never been a father. He had only been a man in their life, the thorn in Brooke's side and the reason for her heartbreak.

_He had been his father. _

He reached the kitchen, and saw a white note with his name on it. He sighed in relief as he saw Brooke's signature heart on it, and couldn't help but smile at the little gesture. Even in a time like this, he was glad to see that there were traces of _Brooke _left in her.

The note said that she had gone away. She loved him, and she probably always would, but she couldn't be there for him in the way she wished she could. She would see him later when he could bring the kids home to her, but after she had finished setting up their 'new' home. They didn't deserve to come home to an empty house. Lucas understood that, right?

Lucas folded the note, and put it back on the counter. He hung his head, before he nodded slightly to himself.

Of course he understood.

--

Peyton looked carefully over at Brooke, and took a moment to study her features. Her eyes were an unnoticeable shade of dull brown, and she struggled to keep them open. Her cheekbones were more visible than before, and as Brooke clung on to the cup of coffee, she couldn't help but notice that her wedding band was too big on her finger. Peyton furrowed her brows, as Brooke continued to stare a hole in the wall.

"It's okay to miss him." Peyton said softly, before taking a sip of her coffee. Brooke looked almost harshly at her, before she softened.

"No, no it's not," she whispered. "Not after what I've done."

"Brooke, you haven't done anything. It was inevitable."

"Maybe so... But maybe there was something I could have done? Maybe...I could have talked to him." Her eyes were glistening, and her hands were shaking as they tried to hold on to the cup.

"The day I told him I wanted a divorce, do you know what he said?" Peyton shook her head; her soft curls dancing around her shoulders.

"He said that..." She breathed in shakily, before she continued. "He said that he was with the other woman because she loved him. What does that say about me? Maybe it's true, maybe somewhere down the line I got so wrapped up in hating him that I forgot to love him. Can I really blame him for wanting something that I should've given him, something that I promised to do for the rest of my life?" She looked questioningly at Peyton, who wasn't sure if she should answer or not.

"I don't think I can, Peyton... It's all my fault," She whispered. She dropped the cup of coffee down on the table, making the coffee spill everywhere. Brooke frantically started looking for a washing cloth, with maniac motions she started wiping away the stains, while she repeated the words I'm sorry over and over. Peyton covered Brooke's hand with her own, and gently urged her to stop.

"It's going to be okay," Peyton said, her eyes dancing with the usual determination she had kept from her high school days. Brooke stopped her movement, and looked over at Peyton, her eyes read and her cheeks wet.

"How do you know that?" Brooke asked before she licked away a tear that had landed on her lips.

"You want to know why?" Peyton asked with a smile tugging at her lips. Brooke nodded hesitantly.

"Because I'm going to help you through it. Brooke P. Davis does not break down for anyone. I'm going to make you remember." Peyton nudged Brooke's shoulders, before she nearly attacked the frail brunette with a hug.

"You know, I never did return the favor of your piggy back ride all those years ago…" A luminous smile lit up the blonde's face.

"Peyton-" Brooke started, but was cut off by Peyton. "You want a ride?" She pointed at the staircase that led to the upstairs guest room. Brooke wiped away the last of the tears, before her lips turned into a genuine smile, one she hadn't used in a long time.

"Yeah... Yeah, I do." She answered, and got ready for the ride she knew would never let her fall alone.

--

Lucas paced around the living room, picking various items to put in the boxes that were scattered on the floor. There wasn't a pattern in what he did, and the fact that he wasn't able to consistently pick the things he wanted to bring, was driving Nathan crazy. Items were packed, then unpacked, and then packed again. Nathan knew he had to get him to talk, and saw an opportunity when Lucas was lingering at the last family photo that was taken.

"It's okay to miss her, you know," Nathan started. Lucas gently touched the family photo, before he went back to pick up a set of chandeliers from one of the boxes.

"Nathan, I called you to help me move, not to be my shrink." Lucas answered Nathan harshly.

"I'm not trying to be your shrink. I'm just... trying to get you to face this. Why this had to happen, and why you're packing or unpacking or whatever it is you're doing." Nathan managed to remain calm, as he told himself over and over that Lucas had the right to act that way, he was hurting.

"I know exactly what happened, thank you," Lucas answered clearly annoyed.

"I don't know if you do, Lucas. Do you know just _why_ Brooke asked for that divorce?" Nathan knew he was walking on dangerous territory, but he knew more than anyone that Lucas needed to hear this. Even though he probably would wake up with a black eye the next morning.

"Because I cheated." Lucas replied shortly, as he contemplated whether or not to pack one of the many family portraits taken.

"I don't think that's it. And deep down, you know that's not the real reason either."

Lucas sighed, before he plopped down on his chair that stood in the corner. Brooke had placed it there because it was too ugly to be the center of the room. Lucas had just been happy that he for once had halfway won an argument.

"Yeah, I know, I just... I want to get her back, I want to make things right. But I... I don't know how."

Nathan noticed the small desperation his voice held, and couldn't help but feel sorry for his older brother.

"I don't either... But together we will figure it out, okay? I'll help you." Nathan said softly, and nudged Lucas' shoulder.

Lucas remained still, but his slight nodding showed that he appreciated it. Nathan smiled, before it faltered when he saw how empty their house looked.

"Uhm... Is everything done? Have you packed what you need?"

"Yeah, everything but... this," Lucas said, before he patted the arms on the chair. He hesitated for a second, before he gently rose from the chair and started to get a hold of it so he could carry it outside. Nathan stood in his spot, watching Lucas struggling with getting a good grasp on it. He watched him curse under his breath, and tears clouding his vision, which Nathan knew was because of Brooke. The chair only added to the stress that he knew Lucas' heart didn't need at the moment.

"Are you going to help me, or just stand there staring at my ass all day?" Lucas said annoyed, breaking through Nathan's thoughts. Nathan nodded and walked over to the chair to help Lucas out.

"I wasn't looking at your ass, by the way" Nathan muttered under his breath, smiling slightly.

"Yes you were. I can't blame you, it is pretty fine," Lucas replied, gently stroking his hand over his ass. Nathan closed his eyes and frowned.

" Ew, just put that _fine ass _away, and help me take out this chair." Lucas chuckled and shook his head, before he once again turned his attention towards the chair.

When all the boxes had been carried outside, Nathan stood by the front door, waiting for Lucas to take one last tour of his house.

"Err...are we done here?" Nathan said gently. He knew that Lucas was stalling, but it was inevitable. He was moving out, and now was the time to say goodbye. Lucas reached in his pocket and felt the rough paper against the sweaty palm of his hands.

"Just a second," he said as he lightly jogged into his bedroom. He quickly came back, and placed himself next to Nathan as he took in one last glance of his house.

"Now I'm ready," he said, before he walked out the front door, and down the stairs. Nathan patted his back as he followed his brother, closing the door and letting the darkness engross the faded whispers in the house of the once happy family of his brother.

--

Brooke hesitantly walked up the stairs to her house, her best friend following behind her. She had gotten the call; he was ready, and he was out of the house. She could come back now, and continue her life...without him.

She opened the front door, and took in the new look of her once beautiful house. He had left a hole. And not just a hole in the metaphorical 'hole in my heart' kind of deal, he really had left a hole. Like, in their living room, where his recliner used to be; or in their closet, where his suits used to be lined up, after colour and occasion. And in their medicine cabinet, where his favourite after shave and cologne were neatly lined up next to the perfume he had bought her for their anniversary.

Most importantly, he had left a hole in her pride, which was much more bigger than her cheesy hole in her heart. She was now separated, waiting to be divorced. She was the statistics. She was a joke.

She walked alone around the house. Peyton understood that this was something she needed to do alone, but when she was ready, she would be the first one there to help her stand on her own two feet again. Brooke walked in the bedroom, and looked under her bed where she had kept the 82 letters she had written that summer years ago. It had been filled with more letters and love notes over the years, until it had stopped when they stopped loving each other. She took it out, and looked through it, she wanted to make sure that everything was there. As she looked through it, she noticed a new letter. The pale blue color of the envelope stood out from the other white and baby pink colored envelopes, and the writing was mature, and curly, and it was messy in the way that showed nervousness.

She clutched the letter to her heart, before she fell down on her knees, and cried. She cried not for the present, but the past they had shared. She cried for her two boys that would be just a pawn in the pathetic life of their parents. She cried for the 'I love you's' she had wasted on him, and the sweet nothings he had wasted on her. She cried for the wasted trip down the aisle.

And she cried for herself.

Peyton walked in and took the brunette in her lap. She brushed away a few tendrils of hair from her face, and wiped her cheeks free from her salty tears. She whispered soft, soothing words. Not just words she knew Brooke wanted to hear and would make her feel better, but also words she knew were true, because she knew Lucas.

As Brooke's sobs had subsided, and her breathing had fallen in a steady rhythm, she softly kissed her forehead before she whispered in her ear,

"It's going to be okay, Brooke. He's going to fight to get you back."


End file.
